Animals
by AllMonstersRHuman
Summary: A recollection of the first of many horrendous acts Daryl is forced to commit in order to fit in and survive Joe's depraved group.
1. Animals

**Author's Notice**: _My writing has been stolen twice by someone who tried to pass it off as their own. If you recognize my writing anywhere please contact me immediately._

**A WARNING TO ALL REEDUS WRITERS**: _In light of posting a very angry author's note to the story that the content was stolen from. I have been informed by a fellow writer that many other writers in the Reedus fandom have had their work stolen recently._

_This person will most likely make a new blog, steal more writing, and submit it as their own to another innocent fic blog._ **Look out for writing you recognize and if possible inform the rightful owner.**

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**WARNING: THIS ONESHOT CONTAINS GRAPHIC RAPE**

**Author's Note: **_After the end of The Walking Dead's most recent episode _'Alone'_. I couldn't stop thinking of the horrible things Daryl may be forced to take part in, in order to fit in and survive these men before he has a chance to escape them._

_What follows may be too much for some of my readers who indulge in my tamer work. **I caution you strongly if **_**rape**_** is a trigger for you**._

**_I also caution you that this work is based on sadly true events._**

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The hope she'd been holding out to find anyone alive from her makeshift family had been dimming like a candle running out of wick, slowly weakening. The reluctant head of that family and the things he'd taught her were the only reason she'd survived alone that long after the prison fell.

That's why she didn't hesitate for a second to run towards the group of strange men as soon as she could make out _his_ wings.

The rest of the men saw her first, running straight for them like an oasis mirage. Low malicious chuckles and sounds of appreciation were heard all around before one smacked his arm and pointed for him to turn around.

She was all smiles as she closed the final couple yards between them despite being out of breath. Until she was close enough to make out the horrified expression on Daryl's face. That was when she realized she'd made a grave mistake. She'd just willingly ran straight in the middle of a pack of rabid salivating mongrels.

He could see it blossom on her face the exact second she realized the gravity of the situation. The way her eyes widened. The way her heaving breath stilled. She knew what was going to happen to her. All because she'd seen him. All because she'd been taught to expect safety and companionship from him. Her leader. The mighty Daryl Dixon. She was going to die a horribly gruesome death all because of him.

As their eyes connected and she saw the guilt plainly on his face she tried to turn and run. She willed her exhausted body to carry her away from the false salvation. But it was too late. Fingers were knotting in her snarled hair, halting her attempt to escape with a body jarring jolt, bringing her crashing back into the chest of one of them.

Joe watched the boys descend on the girl, each vying for a handful of something to grab while they growled out the unspeakable things they intended to do to her. Except for Daryl. He was stone still aside from the slightly shaking balled fists at his sides. Joe had been testing the bowman at every turn, insisting he join in every act of violence and plunder. He'd been anticipating this, waiting to see the man's true colors shine through when they finally found a woman or child. He put on a good front with the rest of the guys. He was trash just like them before the end after all. But Joe knew deep down Daryl wasn't like them, he was a good man.

There were hands all over her at once. Rough dirty mitts mauling her breasts, other hands fighting to replace those, large palms filling with what meat her ass had to offer. They were all disgusting and repulsive, not one physically attractive feature to look at while she was being manhandled. Their breath was almost as foul as the things they were saying to her. She kept herself quiet and unresponsive except for her ragged breathing and a gag here or there. Until grimy fingers slipping past the lenient waistband of her baggy pants, shoving themselves savagely through her folds and into her unwilling orifice.

He proved Joe right when the girl's first scream ripped through the air. He succeeded in knocking three of the five men off of her before they all caught on. Thinking he intended to take the first turn by force those same three wrestled Daryl down to a kneeling position. One produced a knife when he continued to struggle.

"Daryl stop, please, I don't want you to die too." she sobbed out from her place sandwiched between her two remaining captors.

They all paused for a second to look between the two, surprised the girl knew their newest member's name. Daryl looked up at her with a defiant snarl on his face, breaking the silence with a growl and an elbow to some ribs. He wasn't about to let her die because of him. He couldn't take another death weighing on his shoulders knowing he could have done something to stop it.

She stopped fighting against the two holding her when she saw the blade press against his neck, a thin dribble of blood spilling over the silver expanse while it pressed into his flesh.

"Ya know this sweet little fuck-hole Dixon?" Joe questioned mockingly, stepping forward to inspect their fine catch.

"She's from ma old group, let 'er go!" Daryl growled, glaring at the white haired devil who was turning her face towards him.

Her eyebrows foolishly rose a little with hope as the eldest man's hand fell from her jaw. He looked as though he were actually considering it. Mulling the nobody's command over in his head. Only for a slow lecherous smile to spread across his face.

"Aint happ'nin boy." he chuckled shaking his head with amusement. "Been too damn long since we found a cunt."

There were more growls and struggles from Daryl and hollers of approval from the men before her feminine voice demanded attention. The leader cocked his greasy gray head at her as if asking her to speak again because he couldn't quite catch it.

"How longs it been?" she asked again, blocking out the hands that began roaming her body once more.

There were jokes along the lines of "Too long." and "Fuckin' years." before she yelled out her question again.

"What's it to ya? Ya lookin' to calculate how much spunk ya got comin' to ya?" Joe quipped, intrigued by the girl's resolve to accept her situation calmly.

"Let me guess. It's been weeks because ya'll gang raped her to death in the first hour?" she speculated, receiving many ignorant hell yeah's in response.

"Now you could do that." she began, keeping her eyes trained on the leader. "Or you could restrain yourselves a little, hold back enough not to kill me. And then you won't have to let your dicks go dry for god knows how long until you find the next woman."

There were mutters of agreement and the opposite all around and a yelled out "No!" from Daryl. But she knew it didn't matter how they felt about it. The seasoned man in front of her clearly called the shots.

"Think about it. No hassle with a fight to hold me down, no screaming to attract walkers. Just willing pussy available whenever you want it. Any time." she purred, trying her best to come off as a slut and not completely full of shit.

He really was considering it now. Trying to look at all the angles she could be playing at. She'd have to be restrained at night, tied up during the day too until he broke her. He knew damn well it was just a hopeful ploy to survive long enough to kill them in their sleep. But he intended to rid her of that hope right that second.

"Pregnant bitch is justa tickin' time bomb. Aint worth gettin' off." he argued, presenting a legitimate reason to deny her without pissing off the ones who favored keeping her.

"I can't get pregnant. I was born with one ovary and the other one failed when I was sixteen." she countered quickly. "If I'm lying you can just kill me once I start showing or beat it out of me."

Now Daryl wasn't the only one looking at her like she was out of her mind. Any woman who would rather willingly serve as a cum dumpster to seven men than die had to be off her rocker. Or desperate to survive.

The bitch had him there. And he had to admit to himself that it'd been far too long since he came without a bitch blowing his eardrums out and two of his men being right up there in his business to restrain her.

"You gonna keep bitchin' up a storm if I say yes? Or is Lenny gonna haveta slit yer throat?" he asked Daryl lamely, curling his lip in a snarl, plainly disappointed in the man's decision to cling to his morals.

"No, he won't." she replied for him when he stayed silent, making him react violently.

"Yer a fuckin' stupid bitch. Ya don't gotta do this to yerself!" he bellowed back at her irrationally, knowing there really was no other way she'd get out of it alive.

He wasn't pissed at her. He was mad at himself and the entire situation. He hated that he was powerless to help her. He was angry Beth was snatch from him just when they were starting to be happy. He was livid that now that he'd found someone else from the group she had to degrade herself just to keep living.

But she was definitely getting pissed at him. In any other situation she'd be swooning over Daryl Dixon trying to play the white knight for her. But in this one all he was doing was making things worse on himself.

"What are you going to do? Try to take on six of them by yourself and get killed? Even if I fought with you we'd be dead by the time half of them were. Daryl _I_ am the one who came running over here like an idiot. _I _am the one choosing this. Accept it, shut the fuck up, and go hunt some squirrels." she spat back, making the guy to her left with his erection digging into her hip and all the others laugh.

"Well hot damn she told yew boy!" Joe cackled, waving his hand towards the three restraining him. "Let 'em up."

Daryl kept his glare on her, pushing the last lingering man away from him to stomp towards the house who's lawn this had all taken place on. He couldn't stop it but he had no intention to participate. Or watch her be violated.

Joe watched him veer off towards a walker ambling around the corner of the house before turning his attention back to the girl. He'd agree for now but there was no guarantee she'd live to see sunset.

"Strip." he barked, making the girl jump and the hands pawing her body retract as to not block the view.

She peeled her shirt layers off without ceremony. They were all staring at her hungrily, practically salivating as she was forced to bare more of herself. Her skin tinted with embarrassment as she unhooked her bra and let it fall to the ground. Immediately her breasts were covered by unwelcome foreign hands groping and squeezing painfully. The hands that couldn't find room on her chest wandered along her body, greedy for any spot of soft skin to fill them. Every touch made her cringe. Everything in her being told he to recoil but she made herself stay still, she forced herself to endure. And reminded herself the worst was yet to come. When arguments broke out over who would use her first Joe saw fit to assert his dominance, firing off his gun wastefully to gain their attention.

"Aint none of ya goin' first. Let 'er get on with it." he snapped, slapping a hand away from her now bruised and reddened mounds.

Daryl peered around the corner of the house to see the need for the shot, not surprised that there was none. Through the gaps in between their legs he could see her panties falling to the ground at her feet. And a heavy lump of guilt fell on his heart with them. Disgust layered on top of that guilt when a thought crossed his mind.

With them all crowded around her distracted he could have easily snatched his bow and their supplies piled on the porch. He could have gotten off scot-free and been on his way to find Beth. But he couldn't bring himself to think it twice. There was no way in hell he could leave her there with those animals and live with himself after.

With heavy steps he forced himself onto the porch, angling a chair to face away from the scene. He didn't even want to hear it happening but he felt he need to be close by in case they got carried away and threw the plan out the window.

She started to panic as her last scrap of clothing landed on the ground and she was completely exposed to them. It was time to put out on her end of the deal and she was beginning to show her bark was worse than her bite. She was trembling as the leader began to pull her into him, pressing his turgid erection against her. When she felt his hand cupping the back of her head, forcing her face to his she resisted.

"Wait." she blurted out, pushing against his chest to put more room in between their faces.

"No kissing. And I want to be on top." she quickly stated when his face turned sour at her resistance.

Her heart pounded in her chest rapidly as she waited for his reaction to her timid demand. These men were akin to inbred dogs, unpredictable and vicious. And she feared that in order for him to be the one in control, he had to be the worst of them all. His unchanged face gave no inclination whether or not that one request had just signed her death warrant. After few seconds it cracked into a leering grin, making relief and dread wash over her.

"Jus tryina be a gentlemen but fine by me. Less stress on ma bad hip." he good-humoredly chuckled, releasing her to tend to his belt buckle.

Her eyes roamed to the only true gentlemen present before the man's pants were at his ankles and she was being pushed to stand over his reclined form on the lawn. Shaking legs lowered her to her knees on either side of his hips slowly. The others were increasingly frustrated with her pace but the man beneath her was enjoying the delay. Savoring her fear and the struggle to keep liquid from overflowing the rims of her eyes. All the strength and sensuality she'd exuded during her proposition was stripped away now. Revealing the scared and inexperienced girl she really was.

There's no way to really explain or describe the feeling of being violated. To have absolutely no control over what is going to be done to your body. It's a mixture of helplessness, anger, terror, and something else indefinable that never quite leaves you afterwards. A permanent tarnish on you that you can never be rid of. If you're one of the ones lucky or unlucky enough to survive.

The hand that reached back for his erection was practically vibrating it was shaking so hard. She took a deep breath and spit into her other hand, rubbing it along her entrance before inserting lubricated fingers inside herself to ease the friction. With nothing left to stall for time she lowered herself on his length, fighting the bile rising in her throat in reaction to each inch invading her. His groan of satisfaction made the rest cheer as she reached the end of her descent.

"Mmm mmm god damn boys yer in for a treat, she's fuckin' _tight_." he grunted, bursting into mocking laughter at the tears rolling freely down her cheeks.

Hot acidic puke came flying up her throat and nostrils at his boast. Thankfully she'd had enough sense to lean over in time, purging the meager contents of her stomach onto the boots of one of the men nearby. She couldn't breathe as heave after heave of bile came flying out.

Daryl heard laughing from the circled men. Cursing came from the bandanna wearing one who's shoes had just been defiled. And strained grunts came from Joe as the girl's body contracted around his cock with every involuntary spasm of her stomach. As he was mentally forced to picture the scene he felt vomit of his own threatening to come up. He choked it back as anger overpowered his disgust at the sound of a smack, most likely on her ass, before he heard Joe order her to "Get to it."

She obeyed, wiping her mouth off with the back of her forearm before rising up and dropping back down. Setting into a steady rhythm while she continued to cry silently.

"Come on now honey save yer cryin' for later, can guarantee the rest aint gonna be so nice to ya." he told her with false sympathy that made it into a joke, making her cry harder.

Picking up speed in her thrusts was her only reply. She was desperate to have it over with. Even if he was the most gentle and best looking of the group. Aside from Daryl. She was trying to look on the bright side as she took in his salt and pepper hair. He really wasn't bad looking for a guy his age. And with how long it'd been for all of them she had to keep telling herself they'd come quick. She mentally noted how bleak it was that that was the bright side of her situation.

Many of them were already touching themselves as they watched her ride their leader. And as she felt hot liquid fill her and the man beneath her tense with gritted teeth she sent a prayer skyward that they'd all be that quick.

'_Only five more.' _

Daryl hated himself for letting this happen and doing almost nothing to stop it. If it were anyone he was close with. Beth, Carol, Maggie, even Sasha. And not just a random face from the prison he didn't know well enough to put a name to. He would have died trying to stop them. He felt like a coward trying to use that as an excuse. But he knew even if it were his own daughter out there being rutted on he wasn't in any position to do anything of use. That knowledge still didn't do anything to stop the sound of smacking flesh from making him feel like he was responsible for it all. He couldn't protect her. He couldn't save her. It might as well have been him raping her six times over as far as he was concerned.

There weren't even tears to be shed now. All she could do was look down at their revolting faces blankly as she fucked them. You can't just disconnect yourself from the situation like so many women do in the movies or books during rape scenes. There is no blissful numbness or psychosis. You feel the pain. And you feel your body's natural reactions. She hated herself for those reactions. Those twinges that came fleetingly, a mocking parody of what she was supposed to feel in a different scenario.

After the fourth man she didn't have the strength to move but the remaining two could have cared less, dragging her body across theirs, positioning her like a blowup doll. They were rough as they pounded up into her limp body but not viciously erratic like they normally would have been. Thanks in large part to their leader smoking a cigarette nearby to make sure they didn't just say "Fuck it." and go balls to the walls.

Daryl started thinking about her. Reverting into his mind so he didn't have to focus on the depraved travesty happening behind him. He tried to remember what her role was back at the prison and who her friends were. He seemed to recall her being a constant staple at the fence. Often times being the first one out in the morning and the last one in at night when it came to dispatching walkers at the safety barrier. Beth was the first face that came to mind as far as her companions went. They were close in age so it made sense. Michonne was the second but more of an idol than a friend. He distinctly remembered comparing her to Patrick one morning when he spied her running to take care of Michonne's horse when she'd arrived from another search. He could remember he voice though and it didn't make sense to him because he'd never spoken with her. Until the few survival classes he'd taught came to mind. She'd been a fast learner and hadn't needed any pointers. She'd even helped explain something when he began getting fed up with one of the dimmer students.

By the time the last one blew his load and pushed her off his chest onto the ground she wasn't so sure. If that was what she had to endure every day from then on she wasn't confident she still had the will to keep living. It hadn't hurt as much as she'd expected it to physically. There was so much cum inside her their movements were unhindered. But mentally and emotionally she was ripped to shreds. Balancing precariously between requesting death and believing Daryl would escape with her at the first available opportunity.

She remembered a walker at the fence that'd had a noose around its neck and a weathered piece of paper reading "I'm sorry". When she'd pointed it out to Glenn he'd went off on a rant about cowardice and how many suicide scenes they'd come across when the original group had been jumping from place to place. She realized she didn't want to be another person that just gave up because the new world was too gruesome to handle. She had to believe in Daryl. He was the only string keeping her from dropping over the cliff and ending it right there.

She rolled onto her side, trucking her knees up into her chest, searching for her savior. Her reason to keep going. She found him sitting with his wings facing her. Just the sight of him gave her renewed hope. She would survive this.

Joe studied the naked girl curled in a ball with satisfied men sprawled out around her, following her gaze to the man on the porch. He felt it was time for Mr. high and mighty to come down to their level. It was time for him to fit in with the pack or get a bullet put in his brain.

"Dixon get on down here, it's yer turn." he called out, flicking his cigarette butt off into the distance.

Dread engulfed Daryl at those words. He knew Joe's intention to make him into one of them. That was one of his worst fears short of being alone. Turning back into the piece of shit he'd been before the end was just about the worst thing he could imagine.

"Nah, 'm good." he yelled back, trying to play it cool if it were possible.

Joe watched Daryl get up and jump off the porch, heading for the backyard. He wasn't about to let his refusal go accepted.

"Go 'n get 'em, bring 'em here." he ordered to the ones nearest his seat on the ground, standing to stretch.

She could hear Daryl yelling again. Fighting against hands that were dragging him around to the front yard. Towards her. Even through her fog of trauma she could see what the older man was doing. Trying to sully Daryl enough to make him one of them. She sat up as they forced him closer, determined to undermine the leader, even if it was just in this one small way.

"Yer gonna fuck that bitch jus like the rest of us or you're gonna die. Simple as that. Gotta have unity." he reasoned, grinning sadistically to accentuate what bullshit it all was and how much he was enjoying it.

"Aint no fuckin' rapist!" Daryl growled, desperately struggling against the hands holding him and trying not to look at the dirty nude girl at his feet.

"It's not rape." she told him softly, looking up into his confused face, his eyes finally falling on her. "I always wanted you."

He shook his head violently, continuing to fight to get free. Not believing a word. After all who in their right mind would want him anyway?

"I'm serious. All the girls. We made up lists like we were back in elementary school. Just for something to do one night. You were at the top of my list. Hell you were at the top of everyone's list. Except Michonne, she had a thing for Rick." she explained, trying to ease his guilt with the truth. "It's not rape."

"Jus stop!" he snapped at her, unable to believe anyone let alone almost all the women at the prison wanted him.

She let out a deep sigh as Daryl's stubbornness. Masking the satisfaction running through her at the displeased look on the leader's face at this admission. Using her palms on the ground she tried to stand, falling over once before her shaky unreliable legs held her up properly. Ignoring the thick trail running down her inner thigh she stepped forward, clutching onto the leather of Daryl's vest when she almost collapsed again.

With him still restrained she leaned forward, pressing her cracked lips to his, following him as he tried to move his head from side to side and break their connection. Comments about him being a pussy and a faggot were heard from the men around them as she pulled back and scowled at him.

"Come on, now you're making me into a rapist." she joked humorlessly, meeting his eyes as he looked at her uncertainly.

When she leaned in again Daryl didn't fight it, instead pressing his lips back into hers. Opening his mouth when her soft wet tongue ran along his bottom lip, letting her inside. The kiss became heated when she pressed her whole body against him, moving one of her hands to run through his surprisingly soft hair and cup the back of his head. Deepening the kiss before pulling away.

"Let him go so he can show ya'll how a real man does it." she huskily drawled, looking over at the leader for him to give the real order.

With a nod of Joe's head Daryl was released and she began pulling him down onto the ground on top of her, reaching for his belt buckle. Only to have his gentle hand stop hers, pulling them away. She looked up at him confused before he ducked his head and began kissing her slowly, willing her mouth to open for him. She understood then as she felt his tongue slide along hers. If he was forced to do it he intended to do it right.

The part of her that would always be scarred from what she'd endured wished he'd just get it over with like the rest of them. But deep down she was eternally grateful for what he was doing despite not being able to fully enjoy it.

Daryl was ashamed that he'd been hard since the halfway mark of her assault. He wasn't aroused by a girl being forced but after having gone so long himself his body had reacted naturally to the sounds that'd met his ears. His face reddened more with shame when she ran her fingers along his scalp and he automatically bucked into her. Grinding into the spot where his hips had settled between her spread legs.

He was surprised when she reacted, pushing back into him and making a low hum of appreciation in the back of her throat. Despite comments about wasting time and being a showoff he continued kissing her, moving his mouth down along her jaw to her neck, sucking in certain spots, licking in others. Painfully aware that they were being watched and that he was being judged.

'_Ta hell with 'em. If they kill me fer showin' 'er a good time so be it.'_

She hissed in pain when one of his calloused hands claimed her abused breasts, taking in a deep breath of air next when he eased his touch and lightly strummed a thumb over its hardening tip. He took the same care with the other one, running his tongue over her collarbone simultaneously. Her breathing was getting heavier, her pulse quickening, nerve endings reacting positively to his attentions. She was getting impatient with him for a different reason now.

"Please." she whispered, sliding her hand in between them to stroke his length, getting denied as he pulled away and retreated.

Her eyes widened with surprise when she realized where he was headed and then it scrunched in awed disgust as he lowered his mouth. One of the spectators even gagged and commented how "Fuckin' sick" it was. But none of them could deny it took some steel balls to do it.

Daryl tried to focus on the fingers tangling in his hair and not the taste of multiple kinds of cum in his mouth. He was rewarded with a gasp and more encouraging sounds for his troubles. Sounds the other men knew weren't the fake shrieking of a porn star. Sounds of authentic pleasure they'd never heard from a woman themselves. The smug look on Daryl's face couldn't be seen but it was definitely present between her thighs. The words coming from her were even more rewarding while he paid special attention to the hardened bump in her upper folds.

"Fuck. So…so fucking good. Please. Don't stop Daryl." she whined, gasps accompanying her words here and there.

He had absolutely no intention of stopping, doubling his efforts as her pants for hair came quicker and her moans climbed in pitch.

"Goddamn looket 'em eatin' that pussy like it's his last meal." one quipped, making all the others laugh as they watched.

Laugh as they might they were all dead silent when her hips flew up in the air and she let out a loud pleasure filled yell, her face plainly spelling out Daryl's accomplishment loud and clear. They were all quiet because what he just did was putting them to shame. And making them all crave for the girl to do the same thing under them.

She didn't waste any time to pull Daryl up along her body, grabbing for his belt roughly, refusing to be put off any longer by him. In any other situation the girth she found inside his pants would have been welcomed surprise but in that instant it made her flinch. No matter how slow and gentle he was her pussy had taken so much abuse already there was no way around the pain. All she could do was try her best not to show it and make him feel worse about what he had to do.

Daryl let her take the reins, allowing her to position his dick at her entrance. Waiting until she pushed him forward with her heels on his ass, encouraging him to enter her. He felt guilty for enjoying it. For liking the way her mistreated flesh accepted him into her depths and held him tight. He looked up at her for permission, moving in small increments when she gave it. When she let out a whimper he paused, thinking he'd done something to cause her great pain for such a sound. Her head was tilted back, her eyes filling with tears as she watched one of the other men stroking his renewed hardon as he watched them.

"Hey. Looket me, yer with me right now." he told her, bringing his face close to hers, trying to soften his gruff voice and get her attention off the next man looking to use her.

She did as he suggested, moving her eyes to his deep blue ones, staying in the semi-enjoyable moment and refusing to think about the horrible future. She gave him a small nod, keeping her eyes locked with his even though his natural nervousness made him look away from time to time as he moved. She was appreciative of the careful pace but it was going to hurt either way. She just rathered it not be drawn out.

"Harder." she demanded, adding in fake gasps and grunts to reassure him.

Daryl didn't hesitate, eager to get it over with now that he'd done what he could for her. Fucking in front of a group of guys hadn't exactly been on his end of the world bucket list. She enjoyed the expressions on his face as he got closer, the way his face contorted and the final spine tingling growl he let out before she felt him come undone inside her. She whispered a sincere "Thank you" in his ear while his head was resting against her shoulder, snaking her arms around him to give him a quick squeeze before releasing.

Daryl lifted his upper half off her, looking down at the sad girl beneath him. Despite it all she was smiling up at him. Her one beacon of hope through the horror.

"Wuts yer name?" he asked quietly, figuring he should at least know it after what he'd just been forced to do to her.

It died on her lips as a hunting knife was slammed into her forehead, through her skull, and directly into her brain. Daryl felt her blood splatter his face while his softening penis was still inside her. He watched the light vanish from her eyes immediately with the echoes of his orgasm still rippling through him.

Joe ripped his blade from the girl's head while meeting Daryl's murderous gaze with indifference. The girl had made the situation into something Daryl could accept without lowering himself to their standards. And she paid for it with her life. Next time there would be no special circumstances. Next time he would force Daryl to do it right like the rest of them. Or he would die just like her.


	2. Epilogue

**WARNING: THIS EPILOGUE CONTAINS NECROPHILIA**

**Author's Note:** _I'd already intended on writing an epilogue for this oneshot but after I saw the preview/sneak peek for this week's upcoming episode "Us". I had to add a little more. "Len" is the guy talking to Daryl in the woodsy sneak peek._

_Lets all hope my writing doesn't become cannon on the show. :( I think we all agree that Daryl has suffered enough._

* * *

Daryl pulled out of the girl's limp lifeless body, tucking himself inside his pants before bringing an unsteady hand up to close her vacant eyes. He didn't dare look at any of them as he stood and began heading for the shed behind the house. If he did he knew he'd lose it. And then he'd die. So instead he focused on doing the last thing he could for the girl who'd come running towards him expecting safety.

"Where ya goin' boy?" Joe demanded as he cleaned his blade on a rag, pleased at the lack of revolt from Daryl in retaliation to him killing the girl.

When he got no answer and the bowman continued walking he sent one of the men after him, not about to let him go that easily. While the others went about their business one of the men wasn't quite finished. He was hard as a rock and frankly pretty pissed off that Joe had killed the girl just to get a point across to the new fuckhead. He kneeled down next to the girl's body, running a filthy palm over the cooling flesh of her breast. The bruises stood out even darker now against the rest of her paling dirt smeared skin. She was still a little warm. And that was good enough for him.

The hand that caught Daryl's elbow was violently shaken off as he whipped around to snarl at its owner.

"Take 'et easy. Boss wantsta know wutchur doin'." the man told him, holding up his hands high near the turban style wrap on his head in a peaceful gesture.

"Gettin' a shovel." Daryl snapped before continuing on his purposeful path to the shed.

The man groaned as he pushed inside her corpse and Daryl's still hot cum warmed his dick more than the rotting flesh surrounding it. He started off with slow thrusts since he didn't have another guy waiting behind him, bitching for him to hurry up.

He faintly heard one of the men reporting back to Joe, saying that Dixon intended to "Bury the dead whore.". He picked up the pace a little after hearing Joe give no order to stop him, jarring her limp body with his harsh movements. He was pissed off that now not only was she dead but soon to be buried too, leaving him with nothing to fuck in the foreseeable future.

Daryl rounded the corner of the house and what he saw made him break. There on the ground was the bearded degenerate defiling her body. He was going to kill him. And then they would kill him. And she would be left unburied.

He couldn't stop himself, he was already running towards the bastard before he realized it, a death grip on the shovel in his right hand.

"Thas right chu dead lil bitch give it up!" he growled lowly, smacking her unresponsive face to the side.

As he got closer to coming he got more violent with his thrusts, increasing in force until he felt something rip inside her and his cock was bathed in red warmth, making him almost blow his load. He was just at the precipice of the end when something metal smacked into the side of his face, knocking him off the girl's body.

Daryl threw the shovel aside in favor of using his bare hands as he unleashed a fury that was normally reserved to be taken out on walkers. He was aware the rest were coming quickly in reaction the man's screams so he made every second last. Inflicting as much pain and suffering as he could before he was restrained.

Joe took in the sight of the man he'd been working to break down. His eyes were wild and fierce. He was covered in blood. He was half way to becoming one of them. Normally he didn't condone necrophilia but as he'd watched Chance touch the girl's body he'd seen a golden opportunity to push Daryl past his breaking point. A plan that'd worked out perfectly.

"Let 'em bury his bit-." Joe began to order the ones holding Daryl, getting interrupted by Chance's protest of "Wut tha fuck!".

"Let 'em bury 'er. We'll have us a lil funeral service. Then he'll get wuts comin' to 'em." he reassured the bloodied man who was trying to yank his pants up and cradle his pulverized face at once.

When he was released Daryl stayed where he was thrown on the ground next to her body for a moment. He didn't want any of them there while he put her to rest. She deserved better than her murderers standing around making her final resting place into a joke for their own amusement. She deserved respect and honor. Not crude comments and sarcastic renditions of her horrible final hours.

"Go find sumthin' ta do!" he bellowed at them all, his voice cracking a little at the end as he moved to gather her scattered articles of clothing.

They all ignored his outburst, watching as he began dressing the corpse, making jokes about "Dixon playin' wit dolls". Daryl didn't even attempt to put her bra back on, remembering he'd had enough trouble getting them off let alone trying to put one back on a girl. With her battered chest covered he moved down, starting at her feet as he worked her underwear up her legs. He paused at her raw knees, spying blood and pieces of her insides seeping out of her vagina. He knew he couldn't let himself cry in front of them. But the pure savagery of what had been done to her hit him fully in that moment. He was glad she was dead as the evidence of how much worse it could have gotten looked back at him from between her legs.

Before his muscles could react to resist a fast hand was at the back of his head, pushing his face towards the gory hole he'd been unknowingly staring at in shock.

"Go on boy, sinceya like eatin' pussy so much have sum more!" Chance cackled, forcing the man's face into the horrific mess he'd created.

Daryl swung out, reaching around to twist the hand holding his head, gasping for breath when he was released and he heard a satisfying snap along with a scream.

"You sick fuck!" he raged, repeating the exclamation over and over near psychotically as he fought to get to the demented asshole.

After what Joe had done Daryl had resigned to kill him first. But now he would be second. After she'd been killed he realized there was no slipping away quietly into the night. He couldn't just leave these men to continue their brutality. It could very well be the governor all over again given the right unfortunate circumstances. He couldn't have that on him. Not again.

His voice was hoarse and barely there by the time he'd calmed enough to be let free. He kept the task at hand in the forefront of his mind. Unsuccessfully attempting to block out the growing red patch that appeared on her yellowed cotton panties once he slid them into place. He handled her body with care, being as gentle as possible while trying to return her to a dignified state.

Once her last items were returned to her feet and tied he grabbed the shovel. He slammed it into the ground, picturing it was every one of their faces he was shoving the metal spade into. He worked relentlessly on the ground. Ignoring Joe when he ordered that a shallow grave was "good 'nough fer tha dead cunt.". Continuing on as sweat poured down his face and washed away her blood. He didn't stop until she had a proper grave.

When it was finally dug he scarcely had the strength to lift her, his arms shaking with the effort. He set her at the edge and got down in there before placing her gently on the ground. The rag from his back pocket was brought forward and he kneeled down next to her, wiping crimson liquid from her face, raking his fingers through her knotted hair a time or two before he gave up and let it be.

After a brief struggle to lift himself from the hole he stood there overlooking her grave with a moment of silence on his part. The others were reminiscing about their grisly time with her, trying to goad him into another outburst. Making him throw the first shovel full of dirt onto her body a little sooner than he'd like.

As he layered more and more on top of her he wished desperately that he had something profound to say. Wished he had known more about her to truly honor her as her body disappeared from sight. But all he had was that she was a good walker killer, a fast learner, and one of the bravest individuals he'd witnessed yet in this horrific new world. He'd remember her for the rest of his days, no matter how few they may be.

He'd barely pounded the makeshift cross into the ground before the first punch hit him in the face. They all joined in, circling around him , each one adding a measure of pain to his punishment. As he laid there on the ground and felt one of his ribs crack he felt he deserved it all. Out of all the beatings he'd taken in his lifetime he felt that one was the most just. An adequate exchange for what an innocent had suffered because of him.

Once they were done they left him there on her fresh grave, leaving him behind to inspect the white house they'd chosen as their shelter for the day. As he laid there broken and bleeding he wished for death. Not for an easy way out. But to ensure that no one else from the group fell into the same trap she had. If another one did before he had the chance to kill the barbaric men he wouldn't be able to cope.

Forcing his pained body into a sitting position with a wheeze and some coughed up blood he took off his vest, draping it across her grave marker. It would be better off if the people he cared about thought Daryl Dixon was dead. And in a way, a part of him had died that day with her.


End file.
